


A Bad Day is a Good Story ?

by ghostie_withthemostie



Category: Deadpool (Comics), Deadpool - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Face-Sitting, Gunplay, Hate Sex, Swearing, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-29
Updated: 2016-03-29
Packaged: 2018-05-29 19:51:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6390946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostie_withthemostie/pseuds/ghostie_withthemostie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your day fucking sucked. You get home to find a trashed apartment and Wade Wilson sitting on your couch, watching TV. And he only pisses you off further from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Bad Day is a Good Story ?

**Author's Note:**

> This is a combination of three different anon requests! So, like...send me some more because they're fun!  
> Tumblr: deadpool-princess  
> thank you for reading !!!! ♥

You fumble with the key in the lock of your front door, muttering and cursing until it finally turns, and you push your way into the tiny apartment, slamming and locking the door behind you as quickly as possible. _What a fucking shitty day…_

So much goddamn drama at work; boss on your ass, customers in your face…and all you’ve been looking forward to the entire day is a nice cold beverage and the tranquility of your quiet apartment. You lean back against the door, shutting your eyes and heaving a sigh of relief. Finally. _Home alone._

“Heeeeey there, sugar buns!” A voice calls from the living room. Your eyes fly open, tracking the location of the unwelcome voice in your private sanctuary. Wade is sitting on your couch, one hand on the television remote and the other wrapped around a gently sweating, ice-cold bottle of your favorite beer. The kind you like to shove into the back of the fridge for just these kinds of evenings. And judging by the amount of empties already littering your coffee table, the one in his hand is the last of them.

Glaring at him, you slam your purse and keys on the table next to the front door, stomping angrily into the kitchen. It’s a mess. Empty takeout containers and snack wrappers litter the counter. In addition to drinking your beer, it looks as if he ate what was _supposed_ to be your dinner tonight. Huffing over to the fridge, your foot slips in something slick and tacky on the floor. Looking down to see what it is, you heave a screeching groan. Blood. Puddles on the floor, trailing along the ground from the window that he apparently smashed through to climb inside. It looks as if he had made some sort of effort to clean up after himself; your kitchen towels are thrown on the floor to sop up the worst of it.

“Wade….” You call, your voice rising in volume at the end of his name.

“Oops, sorry about all that. I was going to clean up before you got back but I guess you got off a little early today.” He’s leaning against the doorframe leading to the wrecked kitchen, his bared mouth pulled down in a pout.

You press your fingertips to your temples, feeling your already elevated blood pressure rise even further. “I had to stay an hour _late_. AND I missed the bus. I am _not_ home early!”

Wade looked rocked at this information. “Oh shit, my bad! There was a Golden Girls marathon on and you know how easy it is to get sucked into _that_ …”

“Why did you come in through the window? I gave you a goddamn key!” You gesture heatedly at the smashed, blood-smeared glass littering the floor.

He had the gall to look offended, raising a hand to his chest. “I didn’t want to lead the bad guys to your place! I was trying to save you from horrible danger!”

“Did you lose the key?”

He hung his head, “Yeah, I lost the key.”

A wordless shriek of rage builds behind your lips. “Wade! You are such a goddamn piece of shit sometimes, do you know that?!”

“Ouch.”

“I just had the shittiest day _ever_ and I just wanted to come home and-and relax, and…”

Wade interrupted, “Hey, I had a pretty bad day too! Or did you not see all the blood?”

“Yes, I see the fucking blood! But you got to come back and relax in _my_ apartment-“

“I thought there was a standing invitation, I mean, you gave me a key-“

“-watching your-your _Bea Arthur_ -“

“Don’t you dare bring her into this!”

“-six beers into a relaxing evening that should have been _mine_ and just…ugh!” You stomp forward, shoving at him with very little result. “Maybe there was a standing invitation, but that doesn’t mean you get to just turn up here bringing a fucking mess with you, eating all of my food and drinking all of my beer! How fucking inconsiderate can you be? I want to be _alone_ right now so you need to just _get the fuck out.”_ You stab a finger at his chest in emphasis.

The line of his mouth grim, Wade stares down at you, waiting to see if you’re done with your tirade. When it appears as though you’ve said your piece, he looks down thoughtfully at the beer bottle he’s still hanging onto by the neck. “Five and a half,” he says quietly.

You blink, snapping, “What?!”

“I’m five and a half beers in.” He lifts the bottle to his mouth, finishing off the contents before smashing the empty bottle to the ground, adding it to the rest of the acquired filth on the tile of your kitchen floor. “ _Now_ it’s six.” He rushes forward, grabbing you by the shoulders and spinning you to slam your back against the wall, pressing his large frame tight against yours. You struggle ineffectually, but his strength is simply too much to overpower.

“Get _off_ of me, Wade! I’m not in the mood to play games right now,” you growl, landing your fists against his side, the impact not fazing him in the slightest.

“Ohh, this is isn’t a game. I mean, it could be.” His tone is light and playful, in stark contrast to the rough way he’s holding you trapped against the wall. “What should we call it? Bitch attack? _Oof_.” You’re able to slam a fist into him with enough force that he grimaces. “Easy now, you’re only going to rile me up more. Or is that what you’re going for?” His eyebrows raise beneath his mask, his mouth lifting up at the corners in a knowing smirk.

“God _dammit_ , no, asshole!” You dart a hand down, yanking a handgun from the holster on his thigh. You heft the heavy metal, pressing the barrel up underneath his chin. Your chest rises and falls rapidly with anger and adrenaline.

His scabbed grin only grows more smug, showing teeth as his lips pull back mockingly. “Do it,” he encourages. “Just more of a mess for you to clean up. If you’re gonna, make sure you don’t miss. You’re actually being kind of a cunt tonight, and a few minutes of not having to listen to you bitch and moan would really-“

Shrieking wordlessly, you squeeze down on the trigger.

_Click._

The merc’s grin widens, his head tilting. “Yeah…that one’s not loaded.” He plucks the weapon from your grip and tosses it to the ground before pulling you away from the wall and steering you backward, shoving you through the doorway to the living room. You land on your ass on the carpeted floor, staring up at him, your eyes blazing heat. He reaches down and pulls out a different gun, lifting it in front of him. “This one is, though.” He points it blindly to the side, firing into your wall, which explodes in a puff of plaster and drywall. The sound is deafening in the small space and you clasp your hands over your ears, screaming.

“Good! Give that one to me so I can blow your fucking face off!” You screech, starting to climb to your feet.

“Oh, I’m gonna give it to ya.” Wade jerks you up with his free hand, spinning you around so you’re bent over the back of the couch, wrapping his fingers around the back of your neck to keep you held there. His thick thighs keep you trapped from behind as he presses forward, though it doesn’t stop you from attempting to twist away. You hold completely still, though, when the cold metal of the weapon makes contact with your thigh as he drags it upward, pulling up your skirt in the process. When the cool air hits your bottom you shriek, struggling once again and pushing backward.

“Get the _fuck_ off of me, asshole! I swear to God--!” Your voice is high and breathless, startling into a squeak when you feel the gun’s blunt barrel press against the place between your legs through the cotton of your underwear. It slides back and forth with a firm pressure along your clothed slit, the chilliness of the metal slowly warming with the heat of your body. You shudder and still.

“Now, I need you to think about your words before you say them because after the third time you tell me to stop, I actually will. Which, you know, I don’t think you really want. I think you’re exactly where you wanted to end up, huh? Had to act all tough and firey, try to shoot me, get me good and annoyed just so I’d bend you over and give it to you hard enough that you’d forget allllll about your crap-ass day. Is that what you want? My cock pounding into you until your eyes roll back and your knees give out?” The gun slides more easily against you now, the metal growing slick with the moisture seeping through your panties at his words.

You swallow, making sure your voice betrays none of trembling arousal you’re feeling before you speak, enunciating carefully, “Fuck you, you son of a bitch. Get off of me.”

Wade clucks his tongue in disappointment. “That’s two. One more and I’m out. But there’s no need to play hard to get. You’re gonna get what’s coming to you. You’re not fooling anyone acting all tough.” He wraps a fist in your hair and yanks you up sharply, spinning you to face him. The hand holding the gun is raised between your faces and Wade holds it close to his nose, inhaling. “Hmmm, what’s that scent I detect?” His tongue darts out for a taste. “Ohhhh, I know _that_ taste! It tastes like you’re a horny slut and a liar! What do you think?” He mashes the piece against your lips and you feel your face begin to burn when you’re able to smell your own arousal. The place between your legs throbs in defiance of your outward display of surly disinterest. “Now…if you’re ready to play nice, we can-“

But he’s cut off when you catch him off-guard, shoving backward with all the force you can manage, making him lose his footing and stumble. You take advantage of this, throwing your weight into him and knocking him onto the floor, pinning him down with your knees on his chest. You grab the gun from his hand and press it against his forehead with bruising pressure.  

“Well, you really got me this time. What are you going to do? You pull the trigger now, it’s gonna be a while before I’m able to _perform_ , if you get me. Being shot in the head is always such a boner-killer. Which is ironic, because I find _this_ hot as hell. Pretty fucked up isn’t it? Well, I mean, look at who I’m talking to. You’ve got a fucking Desert Eagle pressed to my head and I can feel the heat of your cunt through my damn armor. Which is, I guess, why we do so well together. I mean, at least we _usually_ do, when you’re not acting like a bratty little bitch, or-“

“Oh my god, shut _UP_ I!” You scream, pushing down harder onto the gun pressed between his eyes, your finger itching to squeeze the trigger.

He licks his lips, smiling challengingly. “Make me.”

“Done.” You toss the gun to the side and move a hand behind you to feel for one of his knives.

“What are you doing now? Ooh, a knife? We did knives in the last one, you can’t-ohhhhh, I see.” Wade prattles on as you tug forward on the crotch of your panties and use the razor-sharp edge to slice through the fabric. “I mean, you could have stood up and taken them off, but I guess that lacks drama. Not that I’m complaining. It was definitely sexy, I’ll gi-mmmf.” Wade is _finally_ silenced as you scoot forward and settle your damp heat over his ever-running mouth.

He moans into you, arms lifting to wrap hands over your thighs, holding you close as you start to grind back and forth against him. You fall forward on your hands as his tongue starts to lap and stab at you, making you tremble as he immediately finds the perfect rhythm and speed, hitting all of those places he knows you like best. You twist and roll your hips, seeking all the friction you can find and he groans, lips and teeth working against you, matching your own desperation. He’s talking again, words like “please” and “fuck” and “yes”, the vibrations adding to the pleasure that’s rapidly mounting as you continue to buck and grind with abandon. You feel your release building, heat climbing with tingling steadiness and spreading outward from the place where his mouth worked on your clit with hungry fervor. “Shit… _fuck_ …Wade, I’m…just…” You whine in frustration, unable to move your hips fast enough to bring yourself over the edge. Wade catches on, pulling you down even tighter over his mouth. He flicks his tongue with a speed that has you shivering and crying out immediately as your orgasm spreads through you with shuddering intensity.

Breathing heavily, you sit up to look down at his face between your thighs. He hums in satisfaction against you, his eyes shut blissfully. You start to slide off of him and his eyes shoot open in panic, head lifting to see what you were doing. “No, wait, where are you going? I have so much more to give…” You scoot further down his body, pulling down his pants as you go. His organ springs free: thick, veiny, and red. You hold his widened gaze, licking your palm before wrapping it around his shaft, sliding it up and down and slicking him. “Ahhhh…that’s alright then, yeah-yeaaah do that,” Wade pants before his head drops back to the floor with a muffled ‘thud’. You lift your hips, gripping the base of him to hold it steady as you sink down on his cock. The stretch is a hot, dull pain and you gasp out a breath at the exquisite fullness when he’s finally buried in you to the hilt. You revel in the sensation for a moment before using your thighs to begin lifting and bucking on top of him, Wade moaning and muttering a steady stream of filthy encouragement as you ride his cock mercilessly. Your pace is rapid, slipping back and forth off his cock with short, quick thrusts. When your muscles begin to burn with the intensity of your movements, you fall forward, supporting yourself with hands on his chest, setting a new pace with your hips. You roll them forward on the downstroke then arch up sharply, sliding his length nearly all the way out of your slick heat before repeating the motion, increasing the speed.

Wade’s chatter degenerates to monosyllabic pants and groans as you continue this new maneuver, his arms rising to settle his hands on your hips. Your breathing picks up, the new angle forcing Wade’s organ to bump forward against your g-spot with every rolling thrust. You’re rising to the edge again, your arms shaking with the strain of keeping up the complex rhythm as the pleasure coils and spirals low in your abdomen, causing you to lose focus. Your hips stutter and slow, causing Wade to growl and shoot up to a sitting position, wrapping his arms around your back and digging his heels into the carpet for the leverage he needed to start slamming up into you from below. “Wade, ohh, oh my _fuck_ , Wade, yess…,” you cry out, breathless and desperate as his pounding thrusts send you crashing down into your second orgasm. His hips never still, never allow you to come fully down from your climax before you feel the warm pressure building again, and you whine with the intensity.

“Cum again for me, go on…” Wade’s mouth is close to your ear, voice hot and insistent and it’s exactly the final push you need to send you spiraling again, screaming wordlessly as you shudder and twitch around his cock. He groans, “My turn now…you ready?” You whine, low and desperate, your last orgasm leaving your wits a bit scrambled. “You want it? Tell me.”

You grip him on either side of his face, pressing your mouth close to his as you complied. “Wade Fucking Wilson, I want you to cum inside of me right now. _So_ bad, please...”

With a low, shuddering grown and few last feeble bucks of his hips, Wade found his own completion, moaning in your mouth as you locked lips, swallowing the sounds. When your heartbeats had slowed to almost normal range, he rolled the two of you backward to lie on the floor once again, both allowing yourselves to relax into a comfortable, sated silence.

“It’s Winston.” He quipped, seemingly out of nowhere.

“Hm?” You heave a sigh at the interruption of the rare, peaceful moment.

“My middle name. It’s not “Fucking”, it’s “Winston”. Although “Fucking” would be a pretty badass middle name…And you’re not the first to call me that, although I think when it was used previously it was more of an insult to my character, but when you said it, it was sexy as fuck. Maybe you-“ As he continues to ramble, you roll over and grab the gun from the place you had tossed it, pressing it to his temple. His voice dies in his throat.

“Wade?” You ask sweetly.

“Yes, dear?”

“Clean up the fucking mess in the kitchen.”

“I’m on it.”


End file.
